


Power Play

by srmarybadass



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: M/M, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-25
Updated: 2012-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-30 02:34:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/srmarybadass/pseuds/srmarybadass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the following prompt: Hannibal/Face, powerplay, Face with his face in a pillow</p>
            </blockquote>





	Power Play

Hannibal waited until the newly-formed team was settled into their quarters before whirling on Face.

"What did I tell you?"

Face grinned, not hearing the dangerous edge in Hannibal's voice. "Hey, it turned out pretty well, didn't it? I mean, we-"

"What did I tell you?" Hannibal roared, backhanding Face. Startled, Face stumbled a step, and before he could bring his hand up to his stinging cheek, Hannibal was there, holding his wrists together with one hand and grasping his jaw roughly with another.

Face wasn't grinning now.

"What did I tell you?" Hannibal asked a third time, voice smooth as silk but with an undercurrent of iron.

"You told me -- not to take Tuco down -- alone," Face choked out. He could feel something oozing out of the corner of his mouth, and he realized he was bleeding a little bit.

"That's right," Hannibal smiled. "And did you listen to me?"

Face shook his head a fraction of an inch. That was all he could move, the way Hannibal was gripping him.

Hannibal leaned closer, looking directly into his eyes. "And who is your commanding officer?"

"You are."

"And yet you disobey my orders," Hannibal tutted. "Clearly, you need a lesson in who your superior is." His eyes dropped to Face's mouth, and then he looked back up. "You're bleeding. That's a start. But not enough."

Moving almost faster than Face's eyes could track, Hannibal hit him again, in the same spot, and Face could definitely feel the blood this time. Almost as quickly, Hannibal seized his jaw again, drew him close, and slowly licked off the trickle of blood, letting his tongue linger a moment longer than necessary.

Face froze, unable to move, blink, barely even breathing. He could feel the heat radiating off Hannibal's body and knew that his was heating up, particularly below the waistline. Hannibal had to feel it, standing as close as he did. And then, just when Face thought Hannibal would let him go, leave the room, and give him the silent treatment for a few days, his boss grabbed the front of his shirt and flung him onto the bed, hard. A moment later, Hannibal was on top of him, every inch of lithe, lean muscle pressed against him.

And Hannibal was hard as a rock.

So was Face.

Hannibal pinned his wrists down to the mattress and leaned down to kiss him properly, then, or as proper as it could get in those conditions. At first, it was just a hard press of the lips, but Face wanted, he just wanted, and he opened his mouth. Then there was teeth, biting the cut in his lip, making it sting, and a tongue wrestling for domination, although both men knew who had won already.

"Take your shirt off," Hannibal whispered when the need for air became known. He let up his hands and Face wordlessly obeyed. 

"Good. Very good," Hannibal purred, taking off his own. He leaned down again and Face turned his head up, hoping for another kiss, but instead Hannibal grinned wickedly and raked his fingernails down Face's chest, leaving ten light red scratches. Face whimpered, partly from the pain and partly from the sparks of pleasure he had gotten when the nails had hit his sensitive nipples.

"Like that, do you?" Hannibal mused. "Figures." He repeated the maneuver and Face gasped. His hips arched up almost of their own accord, desperate for friction.

"Ah-ah-ah," Hannibal shook his head. He reached into the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a tube of lube, handing it to Face. "Get yourself ready, because I sure as hell won't."

"I-" Face managed to get out before Hannibal's hand locked around his throat, squeezing just tight enough to let him know the power Hannibal had over him. 

"It would be in your best interests not to argue," Hannibal growled. "And don't act like you haven't done this before. I hear stories. Do you think I like hearing stories? Do you think I like hearing about how many soldiers have had you every which way? In their beds, in their jeeps, up against the shower wall?"

Without breaking eye contact with Hannibal, Face drenched his fingers with lube and reached down, pressing himself open as quickly as he dared -- first with one finger, then two, fighting the whole time not to come just from the look Hannibal was giving him. While Face did that, Hannibal finished undressing himself, baring completely his lithe body, strong and graceful as a cat.

Face made no indication when he was ready, but Hannibal somehow knew.

"Turn over and put your hands behind your back," he ordered, and Face did. Suddenly, he felt cold metal on his wrists and heard a click.

Hannibal had fucking handcuffed him.

"What the-" he yelped, jolting upward, but was stopped by Hannibal's hand at the base of the back of his neck, slamming his head into the pillow.

"You need to learn to follow orders without question," Hannibal snarled. Face didn't reply. He couldn't, with most of his face pressed into a pillow.

Hannibal used his knee to kick apart Face's legs slightly. He lined himself up and thrust completely into Face with one powerful snap of his hips. Face couldn't help it -- he lifted his head just enough to make a rough noise, somewhere between a scream and a groan. He'd prepared himself, but damn, Hannibal's dick was huge. 

"Who is your commanding officer?" Hannibal whispered directly into his ear. 

Face couldn't get his thoughts together quickly enough to formulate words. All that came out was a choked moan as Hannibal started thrusting in and out -- surprisingly gently.

"Who is your commanding officer?" Hannibal asked again, voice harsher.

"Y-you are," Face gasped, voice barely audible. "Hannibal- please-"

"Shut up."

Face did, as he was shoved back into the pillow again as Hannibal picked up the pace and intensity, using every ounce of muscle at his disposal to ride Face's ass as hard as he could. The parts of Face's body that Hannibal didn't have pinned down or handcuffed twitched and jerked almost helplessly, and he couldn't help the whimpers that came from his throat. It was only through sheer willpower that he stopped himself from begging Hannibal to go harder, faster. 

And then Hannibal adjusted his angle and hit a spot inside Face that made him see sparks. He found himself desperately arching his hips, rutting against the mattress, meeting Hannibal's every thrust. And although he didn't make the noises Face was making, Hannibal's breathing grew louder, rougher, and the hand at the base of Face's neck gripped harder.

"Who is your commanding officer?" Hannibal snarled again. This time, Face was able to respond quickly.

"You are."

"Good." He could feel Hannibal grinning. "And who gives the orders?"

"Y-you do."

"Excellent. I'm glad you are learning. And who," he whispered directly into Face's ear, pausing for a nip at his earlobe that just added to the trainload of sensations Face was dealing with at the moment, "owns your ass?"

"You do!" Face gasped.

"And will you obey my orders from now on?"

"Yes!" Face cried. "Yes- yes, I will, I- fuck!"

With a loud, wordless cry, he came, all over the sheets, like a desperate teenager. Hannibal followed a moment later, snarling deeply and digging his fingers into Face's hips hard enough to leave bruises.

They stayed like that for a moment, panting and catching their breath. After a minute, Hannibal climbed off him and a minute after that he heard a click, and the cuffs were slid off his wrists. He rubbed them gratefully, with what little strength he had left.

"Glad to see we have that settled," Hannibal said, rolling over and turning out the light. "Come here."

Face didn't actually get to obey that, as Hannibal dragged him before he could summon the will to move. Carefully, mindful of Face's new bruises, he maneuvered them so that Face was comfortably situated in Hannibal's strong, protective arms.

"Wow," Face breathed. "Can that happen every time I disobey orders?"

"Shut up and sleep," Hannibal mumbled sleepily, but Face felt the smile against the back of his neck. 

Feeling safe, warm, and loved, Face slept.


End file.
